


Death Is Our Beginning

by tupperwaregoods



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Force Visions, Gen, I'm Sorry, M/M, Slow Burn, True Love, and thrawn loves pain, but everything is under the surface, i guess, i just wanted vader to feel bad for his life, not much might make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tupperwaregoods/pseuds/tupperwaregoods
Summary: Thrawn and Darth Vader are reunited to investigate the mysterious Outer Rim planet Chethuhiri. Beneath every surface are things lost to time, threatening to rise again.





	1. Chapter 1

Vader sees himself as Anakin Skywalker, his flesh-and-blood arm extended towards Padmé as she perches herself precariously on the railing of the balcony. Below, the fires of Mustafar reach upward as if ready to catch her should she fall. There is only silence, but he can hear the words from her lips as they mouth: “Anakin Skywalker is dead.” Already he knows what will happen, but still, he cannot move—he cannot change the past. Padmé leans back and he watches her plummet. Just as he feels a scream work its way up his throat—

—he is returned to himself. Laboured breathing and mechanical arms. Two gentle knocks on his door had been enough to sever his meditation. 

“Lord Vader,” the voice reverberated through the thick steel. “Your presence is required on the bridge.” Vader unfolded his legs and rose, striding over to the door. It slid open—there stood Grand Admiral Thrawn, arms crossed behind his back and standing ramrod straight. “You told me to notify you of our imminent approach to Chethuhiri.”

For a moment Vader simply looked at Thrawn, unreadable. Thrawn remained unfazed. “I shall see you on the bridge when you are ready, my lord.” Vader waited for him to walk down the corridor and turn out of view before moving from his position. Where Thrawn turned left he decided to turn right; with his brisk steps he would catch up eventually, but currently he wished to be alone.

This was the first time reliving that vision since Mustafar. It had been a few years since confronting the source of ancient Sith power lying beneath his castle, seemingly destroying it, but he continued underground expeditions in search of remnants. Resurfacing, Vader had looked upon the thunderous sky above, furious red lighting flashing across, as the Chimaera dropped out of hyperspace and loomed over the planet. On board, Thrawn spoke nothing of his ragged and shattered appearance, simply informing him that the special repair bay had been readied for his use. 

In Thrawn’s respectful distance he sensed something…faint but palpable. They had not seen each other since the mission to Batuu, but it was undeniable that their relationship, or lack thereof, had since experienced a shift. Through their turmoil on that planet Thrawn had seen through his armour, his prosthetics, and glimpsed the man underneath. Suddenly he remembered his own words to Thrawn: “Anakin Skywalker is dead.” 

He knew.

In a holovid, Palpatine directed them towards the planet Chethuhiri in the Unknown Regions. Upon hearing the planet’s name Thrawn had raised an eyebrow, but quickly readjusted to his neutral countenance. “I sense a fascinating presence, one that will serve both of you well,” he said. He spoke no more of this mystery but provided the planet’s coordinates. 

Since then, Vader had excused himself from Thrawn’s presence. Whenever they were in the same room, he could feel eyes upon him, but when he turned to look at Thrawn he would be, as always, occupied, studying one thing or another. With each interaction the Grand Admiral exuded a strange reverence, one that was sorely lacking from their previous time together. It made Vader uncomfortable, on top of everything else that now simmered in his mind.

Though he would not admit it even to himself, what he had experienced on Mustafar still rattled him. He had simply forgotten, having become so accustomed to repressing what unsettled him; instead, it all simply felt like what he might remember as a soreness, or heaviness, in his physical being. He had hoped that meditation would have granted him ease, if not clarity, yet the rehashing of what he’d seen then only furthered his pain. The weight of his sins, the death of Padmé—all of it threatened to drown him at once. And then there was what Thrawn. Perhaps the force was trying to tell him something.

As Vader stepped onto the bridge and approached the viewport, he again reburied these thoughts. 

“Admiral,” he addressed Thrawn. “Tell me what you know about the planet Chethuhiri.”

“Not much is known about the planet, my lord,” Thrawn turned his gaze away from the streaks of light beyond to deliver his response. “It is far from Csilla, but the story of an encounter has piqued the interest of the Ascendency in the past. One of our people—a navigator, you might consider her—claimed to have landed upon the planet in her travels. She reported seeing a landscape rife with flora and fauna unfamiliar to her. An undiscovered paradise, she had called it.”

“You speak of the navigator’s findings as only a claim.” Vader said.

“Indeed,” Thrawn continued. “Though she reported her findings as such, the navigator could never provide evidence to substantiate these statements.”

“Explain this.”

“The navigator never returned from her visit to Chethuhiri, and she has not been heard from since.” Thrawn pulled out his datapad, typing on it as he spoke. “However, her last correspondence had included several pictures taken by her own hand. These pictures—they did not match up to what she described. Rather than depicting a paradise, what it showed was more akin to sprawling urban landscape left to decay and inhabited by unknown bipedal creatures. Her photos were ultimately…unclear.”

Thrawn handed over the datapad to Vader. On screen were several murky photos, as if taken while on the move. Missing were the lush greenery promised by the navigator’s writings. It looked more like a swamp with decrepit low buildings; in the background were shadowy figures that stalked about on two legs. Any distinguishable features, whether of the landscape or its inhabitants, remained out of reach.

“When were these taken?” Vader inquired.

“That is something else to note,” Thrawn said. “These findings were reported many years ago, long before the clone wars had begun.”

“And there have been no new expeditions?”

“There were,” Thrawn answered. “But again, none of them returned, nor did they manage to send out any communications. The Ascendency has since ceased their investigations of the planet.”

At that moment they dropped out of hyperspace. The planet Chethuhiri was before them, a black ball only around the size of Endor. It appeared to have no moons of its own, and more strangely, no continents or bodies of land could be spotted on its surface. It was like staring into the eye of a sleeping storm waiting to be awakened.

“Commodore,” Thrawn said. “Do you have any readings from the planet’s surface?” 

Commodore Faro bent over her console to scrutinise the readings. Her eyes narrowed. “Admiral, I—I am unable to get a reading. It seems that there is something in the atmosphere interfering with our scanners. However, there seems to be a faint distress signal coming from the surface. It’s exact position, unfortunately, cannot be determined, nor can we say for sure who is sending it. We can provide a rough area where the source might be found.”

“Prepare to take us into orbit,” Vader stepped in. “I shall descend upon the planet to investigate this.” After a brief pause, Vader added, “Admiral, you shall accompany me as well.

“Yes, my lord,” Thrawn answered swiftly, as if expecting the invitation all along.

To prepare for their time on the mysterious planet, Thrawn went to put on his enviro-suit; Vader simply stood by the shuttle. As he waited, he observed the hangar bay—technical crew shuffled about, their eyes all avoiding his. He was accustomed to standing completely still, but for the first time he found himself fidgeting with his hands, clenching his fist and releasing. He sensed something in the force: it surrounded him but refused to reveal itself in its entirety. It was beyond strange, as if a spectral being hung over him, watching his every move. Vader reached deeper into the force, probing where he could in an attempt to draw out whatever was causing this ripple he felt—but all he found was Thrawn.

“Are you prepared for our departure?”

“I was waiting for you, Admiral,” Vader answered. He sauntered up the shuttle’s ramp ahead of Thrawn, immediately heading for the pilot’s chair. Thrawn observed this action but made no comment about it, merely taking the co-pilot’s seat. Vader, the gifted pilot that he was, soon had them off the Chimaera and headed for the planet’s surface. 

For a while they flew in perfect silence. Just as the planet’s gravitational pull took hold of the shuttle, Thrawn, surprisingly, was the first to make conversation. “My lord, may I ask why you willingly invited me with you on this mission?”

“If I had not done so, would you have stayed on board the Chimaera, idle as I explored the planet on my own?” Vader asked. “Just like Batuu, you would have convinced me to bring you along. I have no time to waste on futile arguments. I also know that Chethuhiri must be of interest of you, considering its history with the Chiss.”

“Your sense of deduction has greatly improved since the last time we met, Lord Vader.” Thanks to the mask, Vader remained expressionless; his breathing unhitched, steady. He did not respond to Thrawn’s statement.

As their shuttle breached the planet’s atmosphere, a host of dark clouds swirled around them and the shuttle, caught in the midst of it, shook violently in response. Vader held a firm command over the controls, guiding the craft through the turbulence. Suddenly, as if possessed, the shuttle’s yoke lashed against Vader’s grip while the surrounding controls blinked rapidly. Sparks burst forth from the console, sending both of them flying out of their seats and slamming against the cockpit’s archway behind them. The force of gravity kept them stuck to the walls. 

With no one at the helm, so began their free fall towards Chethuhiri’s surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you for showing interest in my writing. This is the first fanfiction I've ever written in my life (primarily I do short things and screenplays and otherwise have been stuck in a rut!) and it was a very big struggle for me, so please be kind! This is probably the longest thing I've produced in years.
> 
> Thrawn and Vader are two characters who don't really emote as much as I'd like, so to think as they do was a big hurdle that I might not even have overcome through this work. I am happy to take constructive criticism (emphasis on constructive), especially on building emotion and things related to that. 
> 
> I have a great admiration for fanfiction writers all over the world who create such engaging masterpieces and at such lengthy wordcounts by their own volition. My first thanks goes to all of you who partake in this part of the internet—thank you! Also, I have a lot of gratitude for those who helped me out on this piece through any means necessary, you know who you are. I really appreciate you; these 8 chapters of sweat, agony and hand cramps are dedicated to you. 
> 
> I hope this work will be enjoyable to read, if anything. Writing the last chapter was very fun for me, so if you reach there, that'll be just great. Tell me what you think! Have fun, and I'll be back with more work soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Their crash landing severely damaged the transport’s systems. With the ship tilting down and its nose buried half underground, it was impossible to determine what lay beyond the safety of the shuttle. Fortunately, both Vader and Thrawn were relatively unharmed; they’d had it much worse before. As expected, no communications could be sent to the Chimaera. The shuttle’s comms were shot, and their own personal ones were being similarly hindered by the atmosphere, which Thrawn suspected was the very thing that sent them plummeting. 

“Do you recall the distress signal that was picked up by our scanners?” Thrawn said. “Whoever or whatever is sending that signal has somehow managed to bypass the significant interference of Chethuhiri’s atmosphere. Should we manage to locate it, we might be able to be in contact with the Chimaera.”

Before Vader could respond, there was a loud rumble as the shuttle continued to sink further into the ground. To avoid being swallowed by the landscape, Vader and Thrawn had to scale their way upward to the boarding ramp. With his enhanced prosthetics and use of the force, two solid kicks from Vader was enough to unhinge the ramp and send it bursting open. Immediately, they were hit by a violent gust of wind, carrying with it oppressive heat and a medley of dust that would have stung the eyes. They leapt from their positions, blindly setting foot on this strange planet’s surface—only to have their feet landing straight into warm sand. All that could be seen across was plain desert; the evening sky was set ablaze as two suns made their descent.

Thrawn, having first turn his attention to the shuttle, suddenly found himself gripping at his throat. “My lord!” He managed to choke out.

“You dare play a trick on me, Admiral?” Vader commanded, his voice dark. His fist was raised up before him, clenched, gradually getting tighter and tighter. Though Thrawn struggled, his face ultimately remained calm. His red eyes bore through Vader’s mask, and in them Vader saw no trace of guile, a man with nothing to hide. He saw something familiar—was it trust? Thrawn’s gaze was pleading, yet betrayed no fear of dying by Vader’s hand. Against someone like Thrawn, this was ultimately a pointless show of power. That was not something he was against, but in such a situation, it was definitely not a priority.

Vader released his grip. Thrawn dropped onto his knees, gasping for air. He turned away, his cloak billowing in the wind, and stared off into the distance; he made no comment, as if nothing had happened. 

The force choke had damaged Thrawn’s enviro-suit, sending a constant stream of air hissing out at the collar. He tore off his helmet. The air, though incredibly dry and hot, seemed habitable for a species like the Chiss, in the very least. Thrawn then proceeded to peel the rest of the enviro-suit off, revealing black tactical gear underneath.

Unlike most of Vader’s force choke victims who reacted with fear and cowardice, Thrawn, after regaining his composure, simply rose and joined Vader by his side with his arms folded behind him. However, he maintained a more breathable distance between them than the usual. Vader, unrelenting, expected him to speak first.

“If I may,” Thrawn intoned in his usual sombre voice, though a keen ear could pick up the strain in his throat. “Have you perhaps been on this planet before?”

“It will be wise to not make such presumptions about me,” Vader countered. “This planet is foreign to me.” His gaze remained faraway. “Your breathing,” he continued, “it is…not hindered by the environment.”

“No, it seems that the atmosphere is generally hospitable.”

“Good,” Vader commanded, finally facing Thrawn, though at an obtuse angle. “Then we shall proceed. How do you suggest we find the source of that distress signal?”

“It will not be too difficult. To send such a strong signal will require a device of great technological advancement. In this landscape—” Thrawn gestured to the sandy abyss before them, “it would be rather prominent, and requiring a strong power source.” Vader nodded and led the way. 

With no significant landmarks in sight—aside from their shuttle, now about three-quarters buried and soon to be devoured—they headed westward, following the direction of the suns. They had to make haste before it was completely dark. Whatever this planet was up to, Vader saw it necessary to maintain extreme caution: he recalled that nights on Tattooine were exceptionally harsh and dangerous. 

But all of his memories of being on that faraway desert planet had been in his youth. He was small, weak and naïve. He had trusted the Jedi Council to save him and those dear to him. If he had been wiser and said no, would he have survived, broken free and thrived even, as a young man, as an adult? Not leaving would have meant never becoming The Jedi, never entering the temple or meeting The Jedi’s master, never falling so deeply to become who he was today. It would have meant never falling in love, never having his heart torn apart so thoroughly by grief. It would have meant keeping The Jedi’s most loved person alive: his mother.

“Lord Vader.” He felt a light touch on his left shoulder. Vader realised that he had stopped walking. How long had he remained frozen? How long had Thrawn waited for him? Thrawn looked into his eyes, or the eyes of his mask, the Chiss’s own furrowed into a look of concern. 

“We have to continue on should we seek to be safe from this desert’s perils.” Thrawn did not ask Vader why he had halted, nor what he was thinking about, but gradually removed the tips of his fingers from his shoulder. Despite the armour he wore it almost felt like Thrawn was touching him right on his skin, against his seared flesh. That sensation, one not of surprise but of…warmth, was what brought him back. But it was also what distracted him now. The touch, once warm, now reminded him of the singeing flames on Mustafar.

Thrawn simply waited for Vader to recompose and continue on. Vader threw him a sidelong glance—his blue skin seemed aglow, outlined by the orange luminence of the twin suns, his red eyes only a few shades darker. At this angle, Thrawn appeared strong and stately, but he also seemed approachable, the way he no longer stood upright with his chest puffed out as he did when they first met. For the first time, Vader noticed Thrawn’s relaxed composure. It suited him.

With equal gentleness Vader placed an armoured hand onto Thrawn’s shoulder—a gesture returned in kind—and said, “Let us move before it is too late.”

This was the closest thing Thrawn would get as an apology.


	3. Chapter 3

Just as the last vestiges of light took its leave from the cloudless sky, Thrawn and Vader saw in the near distance what seemed like twinkling stars spotted along the horizon. The faint outlines of low buildings with rounded roofs could be discerned. 

“A population of natives, perhaps?” Thrawn commented. “Their buildings do not look to be particularly advanced, nor does the area show signs of any technological apparatus.” 

In the middle of these little buildings was a tall statue-like structure that stood well above everything else. “What is that?” Vader pointed toward it. “It might be the source of the signal.”

“Unlikely,” Thrawn replied. “But there is no harm investigating.” The most sensible thing to do was to make an approach; after all, for the sounds of nocturnal beasts stirring awake had already begun. Together, they made their way across.

At first sight of the unfamiliar settlement, something had struck deep into Vader’s heart—or what was left of it. He felt a strange emotion bubbling up in him; try as hard as he might, he could not silence the harsh croaks and cries of the Tuskens he had come upon in what was indeed a lifetime ago. But their homes had been primitive tents, what lay below held no resemblance. More importantly, he had to remind himself of the reality: This was not Tattooine.

Still, nothing since their entry onto Chethuhiri adhered to the binary of truth and reality. A strange force indeed commanded over the planet. Vader could feel parts of it probing back when he reached out towards whatever it was. There was nothing solid; it was elusive—the more he sought it, the more it moved away from him.

Still stranger was the fact that again he was with Thrawn.

What was it about their missions together that always caused parts of the past to be violently thrown upon him? Batuu, and now this—the planet’s likeness to The Jedi’s homeworld could not simply be a coincidence; they were so far from the Outer Rim that even a mistake in coordinates could not explain it.

It was almost as if the Chiss himself were a beacon for all the tragedy that haunted him and all that he wished to leave dead in the ground, just like The Jedi. Then again, their time together all those years ago had never truly left him. For many nights to follow, after the implosion of the mine due to his rash actions, The Jedi had Thrawn’s look of disappointment seared into his mind; Padmé on the other hand was quick to accept and forgive. There was never any closure with Thrawn—he had simply disappeared from their lives. The Jedi longed to apologise: _You were right. I should have listened to you._

As they reached the perimeter of the settlement, the winds around them began to pick up speed, adding resistance to every step they took. 

“A sandstorm is approaching,” Thrawn said.

“Then let us seek refuge in these dwellings.” Vader kept walking at a steady speed. As they neared the settlement, his hand instinctually went to rest on the hilt of his lightsaber attached to his waist.

To their surprise, the village was completely empty. Yet to pronounce that it had long been deserted would be inaccurate—obvious signs of recent habitants remained; outside one of the houses, still-warm coals were splayed across the entrance. 

“It appears,” Thrawn began, peering into the house, “that we have just missed our potential hosts.” He then bowed his head and pushed against the wooden door to enter. Vader went towards the statue-structure they had spotted. As usual, Thrawn was right; it was nothing but a religious shrine of sorts. Piles of tarnished metals and strange figurines were scattered along its base. In the distance, a large dust cloud could be seen making its way over. Vader quickly doubled back and joined Thrawn in the safety of the house.

The interior was rather small, with a ceiling so low that both Thrawn and Vader, in order to fit into the establishment, had to enter with bent knees and their backs folded over. Weirdly enough, there were no signs of habitation within the walls—not a single utensil or cloth to signal a living being having stayed here recently. No matter how far forward they advanced, there just seemed to be bigger mysteries.

For now, though, they had no choice but to squeeze themselves within the confines of the assumed stranger’s home they were squatting in. Outside, there was an eerie howling as the sandstorm arrived, hurling hunks of debris and sand against the outer structure. Somehow the walls around them didn’t collapse from the impact. Despite their appearances, they were fairly well constructed with the elements in mind.

Maybe now would be a good time to meditate and try and understand just what was happening, Vader thought, but before he could rein himself in, Thrawn spoke, “Lord Vader, may I ask for your opinion on this?” 

Thrawn shuffled over from a few feet away where he’d taken the initiative to investigate their surroundings, holding in his left hand a small prism that fit perfectly in his palm. It was caked in dust, but a symbol, each slightly different from the other, was inscribed on each upward facing surface. It looked like a Sith holocron… except, no sign of the force was emanating from it. “It has a strong resemblance to artefacts created by the Sith,” Thrawn said. “If I am not mistaken, they were intended to contain precious information? In my studies, however, I have never seen one that looked as such.”

“You are wrong.” Vader took the object from Thrawn’s hand and rotated it in front of his view, surveying it at all corners. He reached within himself, deferring to his own command of the force, and channelled it toward what he now held. But nothing happened. “It does not respond to the force. It is not of the Jedi, nor of the Sith.” 

Thrawn leaned in to get a closer look, wiping off as much dust as he could. “That is correct. These symbols will instead reveal to us the nature of this object.”

“You have seen these symbols before?” Vader asked.

“Not specifically,” Thrawn answered. “May I trouble you for a favour? I require your use of the force to rotate this object on its axis at a particular speed.”

“What for?”

“You will see it once you do so.” Vader waited for Thrawn to divulge more information, but coyly he continued, “Trust me, as you do. The truth will be something to behold.” The corner of his lips turned upwards.

_As you do?_

Trust—Thrawn was always evoking his trust, tapping into it as if it were an endless reserve. Everyone in the Empire who was aware of their previous escapade together were in awe of Thrawn’s impertinent humour and Vader’s patience—two qualities that only they could draw out from each other. With no one else would Vader tolerate such impudence. Yes, it had grated on his nerves at first, just as it had The Jedi’s, but it would be remiss if Vader didn’t admit that he gradually found it tolerable, and, eventually, even respectable. No one dared to challenge him—he could simply snap their necks if they crossed a line—but that also meant that no one dared address him. When he returned to his fortress on Mustafar, he realised that Thrawn’s bluntness, always laced with a tinge of humour, was something he missed. No one else could even dream of becoming such an equal; no one else could even come close to making his facial muscles twitch into what some might call a smile under that mask—even if it physically hurt to do so.

It’d just been so long since someone jested with him. He missed that—but it was something that even Vader might not have been able to see for himself.

Vader scoffed, finally acquiescing to Thrawn’s request though with mock petulance, making the prism spin incredibly fast.

“Slower please,” Thrawn said. “It is true that Chiss eyes are more attuned, but even so.”

Vader reduced its speed until it was clear the the symbols in motion had blurred to form a distinct new image. Thrawn looked smug as he said, “Do you recognise what that is?” 

“It look likes a map,” Vader said. “Primitive, but a map nonetheless.”

Thrawn took out his datapad and scanned the spinning prism, digitally mapping out what they could see into a holomap projected before them. Vader released his force-hold on the prism and held it in his hand. The holomap depicted simple lines criss-crossing in an unknown order, leading from a few a markings of unrecognisable shapes to meet at a singular point at the upper left hand corner of the map. Without context or a legend, it would be a challenge to parse its meaning.

“I believe this will lead us to what we seek. Look here,” Thrawn pointed at one of the dots on the east, “I believe this is where we currently are. Our destination, on the other hand, is here.” Thrawn’s index finger slid along one of the lines to the northwest, where all the lines in the map converged.

“You are certain of this fact?” Though a question, Vader articulated it as more of a statement; he had learned that the Grand Admiral hardly ever made false judgements.

“Yes, I am indeed,” Thrawn paused for a brief moment before continuing. “Thank you, my lord, for your trust.” 

In that sliver of silence, Vader thought he heard something—a low sound from the back of Thrawn’s throat—almost like a chuckle.


	4. Chapter 4

Vader and Thrawn decided to rest through the night.

Vader never really rested, though. The sound of his respirator unit was so loud—the irony of it keeping him alive, yet taking away the simple pleasure of a good night’s sleep was not lost on him. In times like these all he could do was enter a deep meditative state; it was enough to quell any exhaustion he might feel from a full day. While Thrawn sat in a corner, typing on his datapad, Vader crossed his legs in front of him and closed his eyes.

Distant screams echoed in a barren and hostile landscape, the sky constantly torn apart by purple streaks of lightning flashing across, sending deafening booms of thunder to follow. In the middle of the vast emptiness Vader sat free of his armour, his mind and body a raging tangle of emotions made spectral flesh. His mechanical limbs, though present, appeared as disembodied extensions of himself. After so many years, Vader had grown used to this hellscape, recognised it as his consequence to bear. 

In front of him the ground shattered, hands emerging from beneath to clasp at the edges of the land to haul themselves aboveground. But the surrounding soil, devoid of any moisture, simply crumbled, and the hands continued to struggle.

“Ani…” 

“Anakin…”

The whispers came gushing out from the cavity before him, unceasing, getting louder and louder, many different voices fighting to be heard. And then, as if right next to his ear, a low voice spoke: “I am waiting for you…my lord.”

Vader turned to look to his right, following the sound of this mysterious voice, and before him squatted a being just like himself but bathed in bright white light, a big smile the only thing plastered across its blank face. The being’s hands shot up, grabbing Vader’s neck with such incredible strength that all the air was being squeezed out of his windpipe until—

He felt his neck break.

For a long time, Vader, back in the corporeal world, remained unable to move. The presence of others in his meditations was nothing new—he had encountered fallen foes and even versions of himself before—but that other strange being, it did not feel like a part of his consciousness. It felt like an external force bearing itself down upon him, its objective unclear. He suspected that whatever he had seen was what he would soon encounter.

In the corner where Thrawn had arranged himself, he now sat with his legs splayed out—though straight and rigid like his upper body—the datapad clutched to his chest, eyes closed. His breathing was slower than usual. Vader had never witnessed Thrawn rest, let alone sleep, and now wondered how he was able to do so despite being in the same confined space as him.

Finally, Vader rose from where he sat, approaching Thrawn. Maybe while asleep Thrawn’s mind would be unguarded, a perfect opportunity to get a clear reading of him. Vader raised a hand and focused the force on the Chiss’s mind, attempting to get a feel of it. _Perhaps even he would have dreams?_

But there was nothing, just gridlocked equations and stratagems that refused to betray even a crumb of emotion. And then, unexpectedly, Vader caught a sliver of a vision: some sort of ledge, lightning, overwhelming fear—and that was it. He tried to search for it again, but whatever he had seen was gone. It had felt so real, so close to his own heart that for a moment he wondered if he had simply backfired and glimpsed into his own psyche; Thrawn’s facial expression remained neutral the entire time. The Chiss had never portrayed such strong emotions; yes, it had to be his own.

With nothing else to do, Vader gingerly removed the datapad from Thrawn’s grip and took the time to re-examine the holomap.

_“You have seen such a map before,” Vader probed._

_“In our historical findings, yes.” Thrawn kept his eyes on the holomap still floating before them. “Similar images had been submitted by our navigator all those years ago. It seems not much has changed since then.”_

_Something clicked in Vader’s mind. “The navigator had similarly been searching for the point where the lines converged.”_

_“That, too, is what the Ascendancy agreed on.”_

_“And how are you sure that this is our current location?” Vader pointed at the spot that had now been marked out._

_“Easy, my lord,” Thrawn said. “You saw the shrine they pay worship to, did you not?” Vader nodded. “It is not a shrine, though the natives may believe so. Observe—“ Thrawn condensed and dissected the holomap, laying out all the lines leading from the singular point to the other landmarks as linear visuals next to each other like a graph. From the nearest landmark to the farthest, each line was increased by the exact same fraction. “You see, there is a pattern. I believe that these so-called shrines serve a functional purpose to whatever lies at the end of our journey. Each of in fact divide the surface of Chethuhiri into sections, and may even reach all away across the planet. The secret to this planet henceforth lies where all points meet, and, perhaps, so do our mysterious inhabitants.”_

Thrawn hadn’t in fact answered his question, he realised now. Why was that so? Studying the holomap again proved fruitless for Vader, but he sought a distraction. By Thrawn’s theory, there was no doubt that to head in the general direction towards the secret location, from any of the landmarks, would still bring them there. Was that what Thrawn had expected him to have seen then?

Looking over at his resting form, Vader couldn’t help but ponder how Thrawn felt—about the world, about himself. With everyone else he could feel their emotions, both positive and negative, pressing against him; it made it easy to manipulate people that way, to get what he wanted. In this aspect Thrawn was one of his most difficult adversaries, second to his Master. Was this characteristic of all Chiss, or just him? It was this very absence of tangible emotions through the force that made Thrawn absolutely unpredictable at times. Vader imagined that if he had not been born of his destiny, to have not been force-sensitive, life would have felt as such. Just…peace, even with someone else by his side.

That could only be of dreams—something Vader had not had the luxury of in years.

From under the little door of their building, faint light began to find its way through. 

“Admiral,” Vader called. “It is time for us to depart.”

Thrawn’s eyes opened immediately, as if he had never been asleep. He put out his hand and Vader passed the datapad back to him.

“I am ready, Lord Vader.” He answered. “I was waiting for you.”


	5. Chapter 5

In many ways, Thrawn and Vader were quite a complementary duo. As they made the arduous trek across the desert towards their ultimate goal, the two remained in step with each other—Vader a few paces to the front and Thrawn covering the rear. By now, they’d probably covered about half of their journey in good time thanks to the incredibly uniform landscape, despite the persistence of the searing suns. As they trudged towards the northeast, it seemed like a straight walk—for miles there were no more dunes or hills that the eye could see.

After yesterday’s sandstorm, the wind had lost its enthusiasm and felt like it had come to a complete stop. It was like being trapped in a broiler room. It wasn’t pleasant for Vader, even as someone who had experienced much worse, but for Thrawn, who hailed from the glacial plains of Csilla, this had now become quite torturous. Shedding his enviro-suit perhaps was a mistake; he had noticed a significant slowing of his cerebral functions since they set out, accompanied by a budding headache and queasiness setting in his stomach. None of this stopped the Chiss from his accessing his intellect—it just slowed him down a little. Thrawn’s mind automatically turned to ideas on how native wildlife might have evolved to be able to survive in this climate—and then, a realisation came to him.

“Lord Vader,” he spoke in a curious tone, quickening slightly to match paces. “I have noticed something peculiar about this planet.”

“Many things have already proven itself peculiar.” Vader seemed unimpressed.

“Perhaps, but have you noticed that we have not encountered any wildlife on our journey thus far?”

Vader didn’t slow, but his head rotated slightly to have Thrawn on his periphery. “In this weather, it would make sense to be in hiding.”

“For species like ourselves it would make sense. However, the history of evolution has often proved that plants, animals and other organisms living in harsh conditions are bound to adapt to such conditions.”

“What is your point, Admiral?”

“Even in periods of extreme cold one would spot flora and fauna upon the surface of Csilla, though they might show signs of bending to the elements. Here, not even decayed remains have been sighted. Aside from the village we chanced upon, it is as if no other living beings occupy this planet.”

Vader came to a stop. Thrawn’s words must have struck something in him. “Can they not live underground?”

“That is possible. Yet have you noticed—the land we have walked upon—how even and firm it has been? Should there be life forms burying underneath, there would be sinkholes or a cause for unsteady ground. You might conjecture that they live deep underneath the surface, but surely they would need to surface to hunt for food. And if not, the vibrations caused by our footsteps, as well of those we seek, should have been a disturbance for them worthy of investigating. Among the desert creatures I have studied, none have deviated from such patterns for me to suspect otherwise.”

“And if there are other things at work beyond the comprehension of data and science?”

For a split second Thrawn found himself searching for a fitting response. “Your use of the force is beyond science. It is not unbelievable.” Just as the powers of the Ozyly-esehembo could not be fully understood at times, Skywalker incomprehensible, or Vader unreadable. In his years since coming in contact with the Empire, Thrawn gradually found many unforeseeable things knocking over the previous structures of information organised within his mind. Myth and legends—Jedi and Sith—had suddenly entered his worldview, but with a dearth of knowledge and no resources to fill it. Being away from Csilla, and with the end of the Clone Wars, Thrawn’s only prolonged interactions with force-sensitive individuals were between The Emperor or Vader. The latter was more congenial, and so, he told himself, socialising with Vader made good research. It was always about data: compared to himself, Vader was rash and of brute force—something he could try and at least understand, perhaps.

“Let us keep on the move,” Vader said. As they persisted on their journey, he continued, “You are of the opinion that this planet operates through the force.”

“I suspected somewhat,” Thrawn agreed.

Though barely perceptible, Vader’s entire upper body suddenly tensed up before he spoke. His vocorder voice seemed to drop an octave, taking on the sensation of a quiver. “I have encountered this planet before, a long time ago,” each word was articulated so clearly that it seemed strenuous, “though in fact it was an entirely different planet. Your observations are not wrong. Chethuhiri seems to have taken on the superficial aspects of the planet from my past—this I am sure of. On the planet of which I speak, many life forms roamed the surface, even in incredible heat. Here, it is too desolated. I, too, had my suspicions. Ever since entering Chethuhiri’s atmosphere I have sensed something in the Force, but it manages to…avoid me.”

“Avoid you?” Thrawn asked, perplexed.

“Yes. Like two magnetic fields repelling each other. I am unable to provide you with further information.” At that, Vader relaxed again, or as relaxed as he could ever be. Thrawn read that as an end to Vader’s current forthcoming attitude, not venturing to probe any further, though he felt many questions sitting on the tip of his tongue. 

Faro had once asked him, “Why do you speak to Vader that way? Aren’t you afraid that he’ll, you know…?” She slit her index finger across her throat, making an over pronounced sound with her tongue. 

Thrawn hadn’t had an answer then; he simply smiled. Faro had taken it as a sign of their Admiral’s fearlessness. It was anything but. For Thrawn, all he wanted was to know. He found his curious mind to be his greatest gift. But that did not soften the blow when he realised that his curiosity towards Vader had taken on a somewhat added dimension. He wanted to know because he wanted to act. He felt towards Vader how he felt about strategic victory—that it was of great importance to him. It was not fearlessness that propelled him to challenge Vader. He wished he knew himself what it was; there was nothing he hated more than not knowing.

With renewed vigour, they went forth at a greater pace. Thrawn had forgotten that he was feeling unwell; he was now preoccupied with what Vader had shared, as brief as it was. The suns still continued to beat down on him, but to reach the destination was of such importance that he couldn’t afford any hindrances. They were here to uncover a mystery—he was here for the sake of discovery.

Whatever lies at the end of our journey will provide me with the answers I am in need of, Thrawn thought to himself. For now, he simply trailed behind Vader, eyes on his back.


	6. Chapter 6

_Be mindful of what is, not what might be._

Someone had told Vader that a long time ago; he could no longer remember whom. Having reached their destination, he found himself thinking that maybe he should have focused on what might have been—maybe then he would have felt prepared.

Several metres ahead was a doorway, like a cave carved out of a stone, an archway about five metres tall and three metres wide that slanted to a point at its top. It stood by itself, as impossible as it might have seemed, unattached to any structure whatsoever. From behind, someone could easily mistake it for a lone boulder. No lights illuminated the entrance; all that could be seen was a devouring darkness. Here, Vader could sense the strength of the Force; here, he was sure that he would uncover the mystery of Chethuhiri.

Stranger still was that the ground they stood on was clearly not of a desert—it was cool black rock that had blue crystals emerging from its surface, pulsating with a faint light. The land which they had trekked across, warm and sandy, ended abruptly several steps behind them like a shoreline. The twin suns, though low in the sky, still shone on their backs, but the oppressive heat ended where the land split. Where they stood it was cold and dim.

“It appears this is the true surface of the planet,” Thrawn said. He bent down and placed his hand on the ground, as if to assure himself that it wasn’t merely a dream. “And there—those whose houses we stayed in.”

Gathered round the entrance to the temple, one group huddled to each crystal, were large, spindly creatures. From what Thrawn could see, there were about ten groups in total of varying sizes. They had brown, leathery skin that stretched taut over prominent musculature lining their curved backs. Both their hands and feet had threatening claws fit for combat; the way their feet arched suggested amazing speed. 

Vader unattached his lightsaber from his waist, igniting it, the red of its blade casting a menacing aura around them. As the buzzing static sound echoed out, many of the creatures turned to look at its source. Their eyes were completely milky white, as if they had cataracts; from their foreheads crooked horns grew, and from the sides pointed ears were pressed flat against their skulls. Despite being aware of a strange person brandishing a weapon, none of them reacted. Almost twice the size of either Thrawn and Vader, it would have been easy for them to kill their intruders off. But after satisfying their curiosity, they only returned their gazes to the crystals before them, completely unbothered.

Thrawn used his gloved hand to restrict Vader’s wrist. “They are not interested in engaging with us.” 

“Can you say for sure that they were not the ones who attacked your explorers?” Vader’s fist remained clenched tightly around the hilt of his lightsaber.

“No, I cannot. But neither do I have confirmation that they did. To fight them in battle could result in our deaths. They are far stronger and larger in number.” 

Vader had no choice but to heed Thrawn’s advice. He lowered his arm, but kept his lightsaber activated. He looked at Thrawn and said, “The truth appeals to you more than vengeance.”

“Does it not for you?” Thrawn questioned, sincerity in his tone.

Vader thought back to Mustafar: the Naboo star skiff, the Jedi’s love and anger, the stabbing pain of betrayal. For the first time in ages he allowed himself to think of Obi-wan, perched on the ramp; how it had been undeniable to him that Padmé had brought the Jedi’s former master to stop him. Did he ever seek out the truth?

“What appeals to me is fulfilling my mission,” Vader spoke with convictions. “If either truth or vengeance fall under that, then I shall pursue it.”

“Then today we seek the truth.” 

Together, Thrawn and Vader approached the stone doorway. Stepping foot into the darkness, barely lit by Vader’s lightsaber, a strong gust of wind blew up against them from its depths. All of a sudden everything was awash in a blue light, revealing the surface of the stone around them to be embedded by the same crystals from the outside scattered across, illuminating a long staircase going deep into the depths of the earth. Unexpectedly, Vader’s lightsaber deactivated itself, retreating into the hilt. The creatures, previously uninterested by their arrival, now came as if summoned by a beacon to the entrance, walling them in. Yet all they did was watch—none of them dared to enter. Whatever was down there was stronger in the Force than Vader had anticipated.

“It seems there is no way to go but down,” Thrawn said. 

The staircase downward was winding and slippery. The lower they descended, the colder it got. Condensation dripped from the ceiling, echoing loudly through the cavernous passageway. When they finally reached the bottom, it opened up into a spacious corridor. 

No longer was it carved-out stone; it was clear that someone had built this place with plenty of consideration. Gilded tiles covered the walls from top to bottom, reflecting the light of the ceiling’s crystals into a warm, golden light. Two statues held up an ornamental archway leading into another chamber—one was fashioned in flowing robes, the other in thick armour. Both held swords high above their heads, preparing to bring it down full force on the other. Their stances made it clear they were oppositions at war. The detailing in the faces of the statues had been decimated by time and moisture, but in the pit of his stomach Vader knew what they were meant to represent.

“This is a temple,” Vader said calmly, betraying nothing of his own bewilderment.

“Does it belong of the Sith?” Thrawn asked. It was clear that he was in awe of the level of artistry put into the architecture. He observed every nook and cranny with rapt attention.

“Yes,” Vader could feel a swarm of energy, both light and dark, swirling in him, pulling him in separate directions. “But it is also of the Jedi.”


	7. Chapter 7

It took Vader nearly all his might to contain the conflict within him, to hold himself together. He could feel a headache coming on swiftly and his legs beginning to shake. Immediately, Thrawn rushed over—just in the nick of time, as Vader keeled over, one hand stretched out to the nearby wall to steady himself.

“What is it that ails you?” Thrawn’s eyes were wide, searching in vain for any physical traces of whatever was affecting Vader. He looped one arm under Vader’s own and lifted him upright with his other arm wrapped at his waist. Vader couldn’t speak, simply breathing in and breathing out.

“This place—“ Vader staggered upright before continuing, “Bring me to the adjacent chamber.” To do so, they had to pass through the warring statues. It was for that moment as they walked under them that Vader felt the most pain searing his insides. But with Thrawn as his aide, they managed to stumble over and through. 

With an amazingly high ceiling, the light from the crystals at the top barely made their way to the bottom, shrouding the room in a diffused light. Dust flitted about in the stagnant air; obviously no one had passed through in centuries. More faceless statues lined the walls, but these were naked forms arranged in different poses, like acting out a ceremonial dance step-by-step. In the middle of the chamber, markings akin to a ritual circle were carved into the floor. Right at its centre sat a skeleton dressed in black gear the same as Thrawn’s, its flesh mostly weathered off to show bone underneath. Whoever it was sat with their legs under them, hands resting on their knees. 

Thrawn quickly lowered Vader to the ground. Before Vader could question the disruption, he observed Thrawn striding over to the dead body with haste. Kneeling to the height of the skeleton, Thrawn’s head hung slightly. Some loose pieces of putrid skin still clung on to the edges of her skull, desperate for preservation, a sickly blue colour with purple specks across it like violent bruising. 

Thrawn was hardly ever caught off guard, but right then and there he allowed a rush of emotion to surge through him as touched the hands of the deceased, closing his eyes at the same time. 

For the first time Vader felt something radiating from Thrawn. Though extremely weak, it cut through whatever pain proliferated within him. Perhaps, Vader thought, this is his grief. He could feel himself regaining a sense of balance.

“Report your findings, Admiral.” Vader said.

Thrawn was silent for a moment before he reopened his eyes. “This was our navigator. I am sure of this.”

Vader rose from his bent over position to do his own examinations of the body. Aside from their clothes, they had not a single thing on them. The skull was long, humanoid in shape, with a sharp angular chin and signs of what were possibly deep-set eyes. “If it is as you say, she might not have passed until the current decade. Was there never a report from her detailing this place?” 

“No, not that I am aware of.” Again Thrawn looked pensive. Something shifted within him. Whatever it was, Vader couldn’t tell from his highly muted emotions.

Across the other side of chamber was another arched doorway only a few inches taller than Vader and plunged in darkness. There were no crystals to light the way. Vader tried to reignite his lightsaber but it continued to remain in its dormant state. From beyond he could feel something pulling in every part of him, beckoning him to enter.

“I shall continue forth. Admiral, remain here until I return.” Vader commanded.

“But Lord Vader,” Thrawn recomposed himself with incredible speed; Vader felt his presence in the Force disappear into thin air, just like that. “You are affected by this place. I should accompany you. You do not know what lies ahead.”

“You think me unprepared?” Vader could laugh. “Rather, your lack of training in the Force puts you in danger. I have been in such places before. Whatever it shows me, I will be ready.” Thrawn kept quiet, another first. His red eyes met Vader’s, his mouth pulled down slightly at the edges. And is this his hurt?   
As an afterthought, Vader added, “Heed my advice Admiral, or don’t. But know that I will not be able to protect you from the wiles of the Force.” He turned around, his cloak swishing behind him, stalking off into the unknown. “This is the best place you could be.”

All Thrawn was supposed to do now was wait for his return.


	8. Chapter 8

“Anakin…”

“Anakin, we’re here.”

He opened his eyes and saw Obi-Wan looking at him, hands clasped on his shoulders. They were onboard a Republic shuttle of some kind; there were no other passengers.

When did he ever let his Master take the wheel?

“Master…?” Anakin mumbled out, sleep still weighing heavy on his eyelids. 

“Hurry up,” Obi-Wan said, pulling Anakin to his feet. He had a smile plastered to his face. “She’s waiting for you.” 

He could barely feel his legs let alone walk a single step, yet somehow he was being pulled forward—out of his seat and down the boarding ramp. As he stepped off, he found himself in a spacious room populated with resplendent furniture and fittings. At the far end there was a floor to ceiling window similar to a viewport on a command ship, and it overlooked gorgeous scenery of forested mountains and cascading waterfalls. He could hear the cries of birds as they soared across the pale blue sky. A strong smell wafted through the room. As he breathed it in, it jogged something in his memory. Had he been here before…?

“Shhh, they’re sleeping,” said a woman’s voice. “Come take a look.”

Seated on a velvet couch to the side of the window was a lady clad in silky robes, a loose bun at the top of her head with curls falling over the back of her shoulders.

“Come, Ani…”

_Padmé?_

Anakin walked over as fast as he could—which was not very fast at all. The closer he got, he could hear bubbling sounds, then a cry, followed by another. 

_Were those babies?_

A large flash of lightning blinded him, sending in its wake a thunderous roar so loud that it shattered the glass of the windows.

The woman cowered in fright as her children wailed in her arms.

Gone was the picturesque view of nature—outside, the fiery plains of Mustafar threatened to invade this space. Standing above the woman with her children was a figure in all black, a red lightsaber ignited in his right hand. 

_Kssssh_

_Hoooo_

_Kssssh_

_Hoooo_

“Stop!” Anakin shouted at the top of his lungs, unable to control himself, his legs glued to the spot. “Don’t hurt my family!” 

The black figure looked straight at him, and as its eyes remained fixed on Anakin, it raised the lightsaber and slashed swiftly downward. There was a shrill scream; in the distance, lightning from the sky struck a rocky mountain, sending out an ear-shattering sound wave that knocked Anakin to the ground. 

It sounded like bones being crushed in a compactor.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes, then falling to the ground where his head remained hung over, his heart pierced and bleeding. He was in so much pain. On his hands and knees, the ground was hot and rough, his skin abraded. Blood was everywhere; everything was pitch black.

“This is what you’ve done!”

Anakin looked up. Circled around him was the Jedi council, their lightsabers held before them in a defensive stance. Across all their faces was a look of disdain, all except one—Obi-Wan had tears of blood streaming from his face, mingling with his beard, staining his robes. His lips were moving, whispering, but Anakin couldn’t hear him.

“You were never the Chosen One!”

The circle parted and a hunched, hooded figure stepped through, cackling. The teeth of his smile gleamed in the darkness. 

“It wasn’t me,” Anakin cried, pointing at the hooded figure, “it was him!” But his voice, too, wasn’t his own. It was mechanical, his breathing laboured. He felt hot, claustrophobic, his vision blurry.

_Ksssh_

_Hooo_

_Ksssh_

_Hooo_

The hooded figure raised its arms and out from the tip of its fingers came startling bolts of lightning that hit him, searing his flesh right through his clothing, his armour. He felt his breathing beginning to stop, choking on his own words that he couldn’t get out.

He collapsed onto the floor, dying.

Mustering the last remnants of his energy, he looked up. The hooded figure raised its hands to lower the hood.

“Yes, it was never you. _I_ am the Chosen One!” 

Standing before him was…him—Anakin—irises red with black sclera, his face sunken and incorrigibly scarred by every life that he had taken. In the growing pool of fluids beneath him he saw his own reflection—now, looking back at him, was Vader. Anakin, standing before him, parted the flaps of his robe, and out tumbled piles and piles of bones that reassembled as they hit the floor. There were four skeletons, one adult and two children, and they reached out to him, crying.

“You killed us, Ani. You killed me.” It was his mother’s voice.

The skeletons crawled on top of Vader, their ivory-white bones coated in his crimson blood.

“Now we can be a family again.”

Vader felt himself sinking, sinking so deep that liquid filled his lungs, weighed down by the bodies, unable to swim to the surface. He felt himself slowly drowning, but still he slowly reached out one hand above him, pleading for another chance…

He knew he didn’t deserve it. He’d known this all along. But still he kept going. He was nothing but a coward.

He’d become what he’d despised most, hadn’t he?

“Don’t let go!”

Another scream.

Vader opened his eyes and caught his breath. His feet were dangling; tumbling through the incredible distance to her death, towards the red earth of Mustafar, was Padmé, her eyes angry and Sith-like as she fell so far that she appeared to be nothing but a speck. Vader tried to reach out, to pull her back with his Force powers, but it did nothing.

“Please, hold on.”

Vader pried his head upwards; he was surprised to see Thrawn, his upper torso leaning over the balcony with his legs wrapped tightly around the base of the rails for purchase. Thrawn used both hands to cling to Vader’s wrist with every ounce of his strength. Leaning backwards, Thrawn used himself as a fulcrum to slowly reel Vader back in and over the balcony, bringing him back to safe ground. Vader remained low to the ground, recovering, while Thrawn kneeled by his side.

“Why are you here?” Vader asked.

“I heard your cries for help.” Thrawn answered in a gentle tone like never before.

“No!” Vader bellowed, one arm shooting out to grab Thrawn at the throat. “Why did you bring me here?!” Though Vader’s hand was clasped deathly tight on the Chiss’s windpipe, he showed no sign of pain and betrayed no struggle.

“I don’t understand your meaning.”

“Don’t play stupid with me. In the village, you appeared in my vision—a predator, a sign of immense danger. You grabbed me by the throat. Those were the same hands that held me earlier. I was being warned…about you.”

Thrawn didn’t speak. He didn’t need to—instead, he used his own hands to pry Vader’s own off his neck, then said, “I have only ever served you.”

Suddenly, they were back in the temple. They sat opposite each other in the heart of the structure, an empty cavern with a simple stone monument sitting at its core with writings arranged upon it in vertical columns, glowing white. As Vader noticed it, the glow faded and it returned to darkness. Only rays of light from the surface filtering through the cracked ceiling coated both of them in a soft light.

“You knew of this temple,” Vader said.

Thrawn nodded. “I had known since the navigator’s first reports, even though she herself had no knowledge of what she was seeing and experiencing. She died a noble death.” Thrawn clasped his hands together, as if in prayer, when he spoke about his fallen comrade.

“Did the Emperor send me here?”

“No, that holo was reconstructed,” Thrawn said, deadly serious, then as if changing the topic, “Please, look at me.”

Whatever anger that was sizzling inside of Vader suddenly dissipated when he saw that Thrawn, known for his steely exterior, had a single tear rolling down his cheek. But Thrawn ignored it. “Please, forgive me. I had no ill intentions. I just wanted to know what happened to him.” 

Him?

“The Jedi I met on Batuu.”

Thrawn’s admission pierced right through Vader. That was his goal, his desire? In a fit of emotion, Vader tore off his mask, revealing, for the first time, his naked face to Thrawn. His rough skin, never quite healed from his burns, were riddled with contour lines like a map of all the pain he deserved in his lifetime. He had aged terribly, whereas Thrawn still looked close to how he did back then. 

“I told you—“ Vader ground out, “Anakin Skywalker is dead!”

Though Vader spoke with such anger and hostility, he, too, shed his own tears. He couldn’t stop even if he tried—they ran like a river down his cheeks, collecting along the clasps of his breathing apparatus attached to the lower half of his face. This was years of pain finally set free.

Thrawn crawled over, his gaze levelled with Vader, and took the mask from Vader’s possession. He placed it aside on the ground, then cupped Vader’s face, wiping his tears away.

“I fully realise that now,” he said. Thrawn’s hands were surprisingly soft, a soothing touch against marked skin. 

Vader put his own hands over Thrawn’s. “You were afraid that I would fall to my death,” he said. Now Vader realised that what he had seen earlier, probing into Thrawn’s mind as he supposedly slept, had been the moment over at the balcony. Did Thrawn have visions, too?

“No, I was afraid because I felt all that you had gone through.”

“And still you would save me? Even after all I’ve done?”

“My lord,” Thrawn said in a soothing voice, “you have never been one to listen to what others say. Anakin Skywalker may be dead…but Vader lives.”

“ _You_ live.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again! I know it may be frustrating that a lot of strange happenings weren't directly explained. If it is something you'd like to know more about, you can find me at @overpricedrice on twitter.


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